Darker than ebony
by Nea-9
Summary: Vortigern, Arthur and Mordred reflect on Queen Mab.


Disclaimer: Hallmarks „Merlin" does not belong to me, and neither do the characters. A violation of copy rights is not intended.

A/N: I suspect I should have called this "Ode to Mab". Sometimes I feel like I am worshipping her a little too much, but then again, that's impossible. Anyways, this is my xmas present to you guys, I really really really hope you like it.

Summary: Vortigern, Arthur and Mordred reflect on the time they spent with Queen Mab. What a sucky summary.

English is not my first language, and this story was not corrected by a beta reader, so please have mercy, I am trying my best.

PLEASE read and review!

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**Darker than ebony**

Breathless, spent and in disbelief, Vortigern turned his head, to make sure she actually was here, lying next to him in his bed.

Yes, she was. It hadn't been a dream after all, even though it felt like one.

Outside, snow had started to fall, and a cold wind had come up. He briefly wondered if she was cold, but dismissed the thought immediately. He wasn't even sure she was breathing like a human being, therefore to her, cold didn't seem to be a surge of discomfort either.

Her fingers were idly playing with one of her long black curls, while her eyes stayed closed. A very long time ago, his mother had told him about the Old Ones, fairies and giants, resting beneath the earth and only coming out at night. She had explained that Gods and Goddesses do not sleep, they do not need to. But apparently they could allow themselves a moment of piece and quiet.

He had never believed in these stories, had thought of them as old wives' tales. Ever since childhood, Vortigern had been a very serious and rational person, calculating every single step he took. This ability had allowed him to become king, and keep this place for such a long time. Well, among other things.

But now SHE lay next to him, living proof of the existence of the Old Ways, being so much more powerful and mysterious than he was able to understand.

Her skin shone in the soft light of the fire, the seemingly endless length of her hair spread out on the pillows. Vortigern shifted and rolled onto his side, resting his head on his hand to study her features. If someone had asked him to explain what she looked like in this very moment, he wouldn't have found the words to do it. Some people simply seemed to be born to rule over others, and frankly, Vortigern had always thought of himself as such a person, but now as he looked at her, it became clear to him that she was the queenliest woman he had ever seen in his life.

The high forehead, the tragic eyes that spoke of alert intelligence and the full lips, that simply seemed to be made to kiss. Somehow, her expression gave you the feeling she knew of things that you would never be able to understand fully.

Queen Mab and her entourage had shown up at the Yule celebrations in Vortigern's castle. Of course, they hadn't been invited, and no one had been expecting them, but for some reason, as they had entered the room, it had felt like the most natural thing.

Immediately, he had offered her the seat next to him at the dinner table, which she had taken gladly.

She had worn a gown of gleaming blue silk, and a silver tiara set with emeralds woven into her long black hair in the most complicated manner. He was sure that no other woman had ever been this beautiful.

The table had gone silent for a moment, everybody staring at her. The air suddenly had felt charged, like right before a storm.

Then Lord Gorlois of Cornwall had greeted her, bowing his head in a respectful manner. She returned the greeting and everybody had picked up their conversations where they had left of. As if nothing at all had happened.

The feast went on peacefully, until suddenly, the bishop Aurelianus, who had come all the way from Rome, raised his voice.

Vortigern wasn't entirely sure why this man was even sitting at his table, he didn't lead a Christian court after all. But then again, any connection to Rome was an important one, and Rome was too mighty to be an enemy of his.

Aurelianus had been engaged in a conversation with Lot, the Lord of Orkney, and one of his comments had seemed to provoke his anger.

"I tell you, it is written: _Per mulierem culpa successit_." Aurelianus voice had taken a sharp tone. "Sin came through a woman!"

With that, he had turned to Queen Mab, his eyes burning with hatred.

Again, tensions had started to rise, but before Vortigern could utter a single word, he had felt her hand on his, holding him back.

"Yes, in Christianity, blaming women for everything bad in the world seems to be a reoccurring element. You have a charming story about an apple in your bible that illustrates this very well. I have read it, it's quite entertaining." She had smiled, her voice calm and soft. She had sounded almost amused by all this.

"You…read it? _Deo, juva nos!_ Is she a witch?" the bishop's face had turned white. "It is not fitting for you to be literate, being a woman!" he had turned to Vortigern, his lips had started to tremble from anger. "King Vortigern, how can you allow an unholy woman like her to be sitting at your table?"

"Bishop Aurelianus, you have been sent to us by orders of Rome, and I respect that, but if you keep insulting my guests, I will not tolerate you any longer at my court. Was that clear to you?"

Aurelianus' facial colour had turned even more ashen, and he weakened under the intense glances of both Mab and Vortigern.

"You will excuse me." With that, he had left the hall.

Lady Judith, the wife of Viscount Waifar of Saxon was the first who started to chuckle. Then her husband had joined in, and soon, the whole table had been laughing.

The memory of the past evening caused Vortigern to smile. He had no idea why she had come back to his court, celebrating Yule with mortals, and he had no idea why she had decided to follow him to his bedroom completely unnoticed by all the other guests at the celebrations. But she had, and the experience had left him completely speechless.

In his bedroom, the diffuse light from the fire caused shadows to dance over her body, making her skin glow even more eerily. He had been hesitant to touch her at first, she had seemed too perfect, but after a while, he had forgotten all caution.

He raised his hand to her neck, letting his fingertips travel over the flawless flesh, caressing the hollow of her throat and her collarbone, then wandering deeper. He slipping closer to her as he started to draw feather light circles around her nipples, making her sigh quietly. Only for a moment, he allowed himself to grab to the full roundness of her left breast, holding it like it was the most precious thing in the world. Well, it probably was.

He let go of her and continued his explorations, his hand travelling down her flat stomach and finally coming to rest on her hip.

By now, his semen was trailing down the creamy white skin of her thighs, a sight that he took pride in and that aroused him anew.

Mab finally opened her eyes and turned her face to him.

"So tell me, Queen Mab of Airs and Darkness, are you the witch bishop Aureliano suspected you to be?"

"Yes." She simply answered. "That and so much more."

A smile had started to tug at the corners of his mouth, but her answer wiped it of his face in an instant.

Vortigern hadn't dared to kiss her during their love making, but now, it just seemed to be the most perfect thing to do. So he leant in and kissed her lips softly.

At first, she didn't return the caress, as if contemplating what to do, but then parted her lips and granted him entrance. He wrapped her arms around her and held her close, protecting her like the little girl she had never been.

Breathless, he broke the kiss, rested his forehead against hers. "Don't worry, Madame, as long as I'll be king, the Old Ways are safe." The words sounded stupid to his own ears. Mab smiled sadly.

"You are right, there is no need to worry." She softly urged him to roll onto his back. Her hand trailed down, and when she reached her intended mark, he groaned loudly. Carefully, she sat on his lap, the ends of her hair brushing over the muscles of his stomach.

"As long as the sun goes down at night, as long as the moon and the stars will be there to guide your way, I will be there too. I am a manifestation of what people believe in, an embodiment of faith. And whatever frightens humans the most is what they are willing to believe in the strongest. And darkness scares them. The Airs and the Darkness have always been there, the mortals only gave it shape and form. It is easier to understand the ways of nature when you have someone more concrete to blame." Her voice was quiet, but determined, and Vortigern knew she was right.

Then she bent down and kissed him, allowing him to become one with her again, and Vortigern felt like he was drowning in a lake full of water lilies.

* * *

King Arthur of Britan had never seen Queen Mab before. Of course, he knew of her existence and her powers, Merlin had told him about her every day of his life.

The night Morgan le Fey, his very own sister had come to his tent was the night he had started dreaming about Queen Mab. No one had ever told him what she looked like, but the moment she had started to haunt his sleep he had recognized her.

In his dreams, he saw her sitting on a throne, wearing a tunic encrusted with gems and diamonds, a golden crown on top of her head. Her black hair came down in endless curls, giving her a somewhat wild and untamed look. Frankly, she was the darkest…and the most _pagan_ thing he had ever seen. King Arthur was a Christian king, even though Merlin had told him about the Old Ways, he had never actually studied them. They were foreign to him, strange and frightening.

Queen Mab never spoke or even moved in his dreams, and neither did he. Arthur just stood in front of the woman on the throne, trying to stare her down, but she would hold his gaze, no matter what.

A while ago, all married Christian women had started to wear rough linen caps over their neatly braided hair.

'A w_oman's hair is the net wherein Satan catches a man's soul_.' a canon once had explained to Arthur. Only after he had started to have these dreams about the Queen of the Airs and Darkness, he had truly understood these words.

Every year, around Christmas, which was once called Yule, when snow started to fall onto the ebony frames of his windows, Arthur had to think of her.

* * *

Mordred didn't remember a lot from his childhood. Thanks to magic, he had grown up so fast, so _very_ fast. This was initially a good thing, but sometimes he wished for more memories. After all, our memories make a great part of who we are, don't they?

But then again, there were a few days he was able to recall very clearly. These were the days his auntie Mab had visited him. He remembered the toys she had brought him, he remembered sitting on her lap, and remembered being held in her arms.

Of course, he remembered his mother, too, but whenever his auntie Mab had been around, his heart had started to beat faster. Even as a toddler.

It was Yule again, and a week ago, snow had started to fall. The land was covered in a soft white blanket, and everything seemed to be a bit more quiet than usual.

Looking out of his window, Morded rested his head against the ebony frames.

A few years ago, snow had fallen just like today, very early the darkness had come over the country, wrapping everything in, just like the snow.

And with the darkness his auntie had come, along with uncle Frik.

Mordred wasn't quite sure whether to like or to hate Frik. Every time he was there, his mother seemed to completely forget about her only son, and dedicate her attention to this…this…whatever he was. Then again, this way he could spend a great deal of time with his auntie, and that made up for being forgotten by his mother.

Back then, Mordred couldn't have been more than a small child of four or five. His auntie Mab had carried him to the bedroom which had been given to her, but which she never used to sleep in.

She had already put him to bed, told him to sleep, while she sat by the fire reading one of these strange books of hers.

Mordred had tried to sleep; he really had, because with her, he always tried his best to be a good little boy. But he simply couldn't.

So he had climbed from the bed, running barefoot over the cold stone floor to his auntie and had climbed on her lap.

"Mordred," she had chastised gently her lips against the child's soft curly hair. "little one, you should be asleep."

"I know auntie Mab, but I can't." the child sighed and rested his head against her chest.

"Very well, you can sit with me for a while." She whispered in his ear, making him squeal with pleasure. Playfully, he had started to tug on her long hair, softly wrapping a curl around his little fingers. His gaze fell onto the book Mab had been reading, and now was resting next to them. Mordred wondered what it was that was written in these strange books. Whatever it was, it had to be very precious, considering how much his auntie seemed to treasure these writings.

Suddenly, the little boy remembered something.

"Auntie, what are heathens?"

Queen Mab stiffened, which caused the child in her arms to shift uncomfortably. This word apparently had conjuring powers.

"Where did you hear this word, Mordred?" she asked. The child had never heard his aunt speak this seriously to him, which contributed to his discomfort.

With a shaky voice, he explained that he had overheard the guards talk about heathens, and that this was what they called his mother behind her back. Mordred did not understand what heathens were, exactly, though he gathered that it was something very bad.

Mab nodded, and brushed a reassuring hand through the little boy's hair.

"The Christians call everyone a heathen who is following the Old Ways. Or any other faith. They have a commandment that tells them not to have any Gods before their own, and to even speak of the Old Ways is sinful. Some of them say they can't allow the Old Ways to keep existing, because it's blasphemy."

Mordred quietly nodded, even though he was not sure what blasphemy was. That caused Mab to smile.

"Auntie, will you please tell me about the Old Ways?" he asked, his eyes big and serious. "Please, please, tell me!"

Mab laughed. "Alright, I will tell you the story, since you know so well how to ask."

His auntie told him about fairies and giants resting beneath the earth and only coming out at night, she told him about wells of wisdom – a draft from it's waters made you the wisest man on earth. She told him about trees, so high that no one could see the top, and with so many branches that no one was able to count them. Queen Mab told him about her land, the land of magic, and how all these things on earth had started to exist.

This night, in front of the fire place, Mordred had promised himself that he would never leave his auntie behind, and that he would make her proud, no matter what this would cost him.

* * *

Mordred sighed and continued to watch the snow falling out side his window. Coming to think of it, this weather seemed to fit the queen of the Old Ways perfectly. Her skin was as white as fresh snow, and her hair as dark as ebony. Mordred had to smile at that thought.

Suddenly, he heard his mother call his name, informing him that his auntie Mab and uncle Frik had arrived.

"I am coming, Mother!" he answered her, and got up to make himself ready. "I wonder what presents my auntie brought me this time." He thought.

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Okay guys, that was it. PLEASE tell me what you think. And again, Merry Christmas everyone! Or yuletide blessings!


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